Back from the Dead
by Grimm2
Summary: -
1. Chapter 1 Prologue

**Um, here's some stuff you might not know or get that I'll explain...Jane Doe: False or fake name used for an unidentified female person. When she said, "ionno." say it out loud and you'll get it. she's saying "I don't know" but slurred. **

**I don't own Gorillaz at the moment.**

PROLOGUE

The sound reverberated through her skull. It made colors pulse and bloom behind her eyelids to the beat of the drums. she couldn't quite hear the singing, but it was beautiful. The heavy bass line stroked its way up her spine and settled near her throat lovingly. The pace, steady and assuring, was twisted and dark. The notes hit flats and sharps that twanged.

She wanted to curl up and pull her knees up to her chest, but instead she lay still. There was something covering her. Unconcerned, she thought with wonder, _'what is this...sound?' _

Beautiful and haunting, she lay and listened. The track quietly ended. A second of silence where she felt sad that it was gone, and then maniacal laughter shook her awake. Startled and scared, her eyes burst open. The first words she's ever heard stole her breath.

_"Feel Good!'_

"Alright, then. How many you got?" A lazy American accented man asked.

"Only on' Jane Doe 'ere fo ya." The loose faced mortician gestured to a small female body on one of the tables. The corpses child-like, blue tinged feet stuck out from under the dirty white sheet, with a tag dangling from the right big toe.

"Hn. 'kay fill this out." The American Accented guy handed the mortician some paper work on a cheap plastic clipboard with knaw marks on it. The similarity of this, to a UPS delivery was 'bout identical. That included the awkward chatting.

Shivering, American Accent asked about the music playing from a stereo in the corner. "So who does this song, again?"

"Somefin' from the Gorillaz. Ma niece is in love wif 'em. Burned me a CD. It's good, I guess."

American Accent's mind wandered. This was definitely one of the worst cared for morgues he'd ever been to. Was that blood stains on his computer chair? _Jesus. _Would rather work at a McDonalds in a vegan neighborhood than keep this job. Stupid recession. And _damn~, _it was almost mid night. The dead guy picker upper gets horrible hours.

"'kay. All filled out."

A maniacal laugh came from the stereo in the corner.

The mortician was handing back the clipboard, as the American Accent was about to exclaim that he knew this song from the radio, he was interrupted.

The Jane Doe corpse bolted upright, into a sitting position. The white sheet slid from her face and fell into her lap, covering her from the hips down. An awful keening slid from its throat, and it threw up black liquid, staining the sheet in its lap. It retched violently and trembled along its spine.

There was dead silence, except from some rasped breathing and the '_Feel Good_ ' mantra for what seemed like a long time. Her head turned and dark eyes focused on the two men. Her naked torso was as corpse white as the rest of her. She sat there looking at them, with herself being exposed. Her dark hair didn't hide her.

The American Accent screamed and ran backwards out of the morgue. The Mortician threw up and tasted peanut butter. He'd touched her. Touched it's insides. His stomach churned and he threw the clipboard at the Jane Doe and ran, slamming the heavy metal door behind him.

The clipboard clipped her on the side of her head and she cried out. Who were those scary people? They hurt her! A very small and light red seeped from her head and onto her cheek. Jane Doe trembled and stood up from the table. Wearing nothing at all, she cautiously wandered across the room toward the stereo, listening to Gorillaz- 'Feel Good inc.'

_What did I do? I must've done somefin'? Oh, no...I did somefin' didn't I? What did I do, again? I can't stay here...they hurt me...Where am I? Where can I go? What is this place anyway?_ She thought poking an uncovered corpse curiously and clueless.

'Feel Good Inc.' ended and the mortician's niece's voice came on.

"Hey, Uncle! That was the Gorillaz! Aren't they, like, the best? And 2D's HOT~!" She laughs. _(What's 'hawt'?) _"It's sad that they went to Point Nemo, though. They're so far away! Hope everything's okay for them. And can you believe it? Some crazy dude's offering to fly people to Point Nemo! The place farthest from any landmass in the world! He's like a block away from your dead people place, right? Agh. I'm rambling...well love ya, Uncle! See ya!-" The stereo turns itself off when the CD finishes.

Jane Doe the zombie stood thoughtfully in the empty silence. Finally she claps her hands together and mumbles in a soft voice, her first words.

"Gorillaz, Feel Good...Point Nemo, it is."

"What da holy _hell_, man! What da HOLY HELL!" The American Accent screamed at the mortician.

"she was dead! I swear!" The mortician shouted back.

"Not. Good. Enough. Apparently!" American Accent snarled back.

"I-It was breathing." The mortician whispered, almost to himself.

The metal door that led to the morgue was pushed open a little, making the two men freeze. The door swung all the way open on its rusty hinges making a horrible horror movie screech.

In the better lighting, they got a better look at the little monster, as she stepped into the room.

Her face was heart shaped; pale, but not like a corpse anymore. She had long spiky hair that reached the bottom of her shoulder blades, and bangs that flopped onto her face and got in her eyes. Her hair and eyes were an indistinguishable dark color. Her eyes were wide.

"Hey. That's mine." The mortician pointed at the huge black sweatshirt that she wore.

The sweatshirt swamped her small frame, it reached half way down her thighs and her hands were hidden somewhere in the sleeves. She looked almost pitiful now. Like a little lost ghost.

"Is cold." She spoke.

The two men twitched jumpily. Was this someone back from the dead? American Accent turned to the mortician.

"Um. Didn't you... like take out her insides?"

"Maybe. Some." The mortician answered, slack jawed.

Apparently, he wasn't concerned about the legal medical procedure thing he was supposed to follow.

"Come here, sweet'art." The mortician did his best to sound gentle. Ew.

American Accent watched her toes curl back and forth as she said, "You hurt." And pointed with her right hand at her head. There was some very odd looking blood in her hair, on the right side of her head...Blood?

"You are a horrible mortician."

"I'm sorry sweet'art. I won't 'urt you. I promise." The mortician ignored the annoying American guy and coaxed his little monster to come closer.

The mortician gently gripped her sleeve with his hand, and stood to the side of her. He pulled out a stethoscope and slipped his hand down the back of her (_his_) sweatshirt with it. The cold metal made her eyes go wide and suck in a breath through her teeth. But all the mortician could hear was the slow musical pattern, that filled his mind with thoughts of money and power, and what came with it. He'd be rich. Loaded. Wouldn't have to move a single muscle if he didn't fancy it. The sound fed his rapaciousness. _Thu-thump!..Thu-thump!..Thu-thump! _Beautiful...

American Accent couldn't take much more of this. He could see exactly what that creepy mortician had in his groaty mind. He'd sell her. She'd be a rat for the rest of her life. A science experiment. He hated greedy effing wankers like that. Profiting off of someone else's misery.

He pulled out his crappy cell phone from his faded work jeans and dialed the police. Maybe she was a monster, but she was alive and showed she could feel pain and the cold.

The cell rang quietly, but startled the mortician out of his trance. He b*tch slapped the phone from his hands, and it hit the cement floor, cracking the screen.

"No, effing way. This is mine and mine alone. No little half-assed sh*t is gonna ruin this."

American Accent guy straightened from his slouch to his full height. He may just be a lanky 5"7 dude, but he didn't take sh*t like this. Not even in this situation. No more sh*t. None. He just couldn't take it anymore.

"You heard me." The mortician snarled. "Some lil' bag o' lard pus-"

A fist slammed into the mortician's face like a train, making a crunch and making him crumple to the floor.

Without thinking anything at all American Accent had grabbed Jane Doe's hand and pulled her outside onto the dirty night filled streets. He'd dragged her 'bout half a block, before he noticed the way she was looking at him. She was looking at his hand, and he noticed it was changing into a light blue-ish color. He'd never punched anyone before. It hurt, but he felt better now.

"Hurt?" She asked.

"Um, no." He stopped walking. She kinda creeped him out a little. Could she speak full sentences? Does she know who she is, or what's going on? "What's your name?"

She looked at him with her big eyes.

"Ionno."

Oh, this was so not good. What was he going to do. It's not like he could keep her like a pet. And he wasn't going to bring her back to the morgue, or some science place, either.

"What do you like?" He asked, trying to get a feel for her state.

Her eyes lit up for the first time, showing some life, but she still didn't smile.

"Gorilla."

"Uh...ok, then." _This is so weird._

She tugged on his sleeve with her little hand.

"No._ Go to Gorilla."_ She emphasized and pointed across the street at a house with peeling gray paint and a mud lawn decorated with a gaudy pink flamingo. The roof had a piece of plywood nailed to it and at least a dozen miscellaneous items. But what really stood out was the giant banner pinned from one corner of the roof's overhang to the other. It read in fat, red, graffiti letters,-

'FLIGHTS TO GORILLAZ HEADQUARTERS! POINT NEMO, NO MAN'S LAND! BEWARE OF MURDOC'S-'

The last part had been slashed through and was indecipherable.

He paused for a minute and felt almost a little hysterical. He tried to make a little sense of all the craziness and failed.

"Ok...So you meant _the _Gorilla_z_?

"G-Gorilla."

"Gore-ill-AZ." He pronounced slowly.

"G-Go-rill-AH-" She copied with no problem 'till her voice abruptly cut out.

Apparently, she couldn't say 'Zs.' That was pretty weird, but kinda cute... He sighed deeply, coming to a conclusion.

"Ok, so that's where you want to go?"

She nodded vigorously, making her hair swing.

"Okay. Okay." He said to himself, gathering his wits.

He took her hand and walked across the street.

Inside a rotting house, with peeling gray paint on 23rd street, sat an older man in his kitchen, busy scratching designs into the table with his keys.

He wore jeans that had seen better days, and a gray T-shirt that said, 'Just Another Judgment Day,' in darker gray.

He was feeling kinda of put out that no one had taken him up on his offer yet. He didn't care if they paid. Well, it'd be nice if they did. He just wanted to piss Murdoc off on general principles. Murdoc had gone to Plastic Beach, _because_ he'd wanted to get away from annoying loan sharks, ex-'girlfriends', Satan, ect. ect.

He'd known Murdoc back in the day...Since then he'd gotten lessons on flying and now 'bout 20 years later was feeling up to some petty payback. He was sure someone who needed to get away like Murdoc, either from the law or something else, would show up, but it'd been a week already.

He finished scratching a whale with stripes into the into the table. It looked pretty good.

His door bell rang, the Twilight Zone's theme.

Out on the porch, American Accent was sweating nervously. Jane Doe tugged on his sleeve and found in her heart a tentative, sunny smile, that warmed her cheeks.

"Thanks."

**My first fanfic for Gorillaz! This was the prologue, so it's a bit longer than the other chapters might be... Did everyone understand what was going on? Maybe I should have given them names...**

**Well, reviews will tell me! Did you like it? Could you understand it? Should I go back and give them names? (The girl will get a permanent name next chapter). Any mistakes to correct?**

**Thank you for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2 Russel and Noodle

**Haha...April-ish...**

Chapter 2; Russel and Noodle

Jane Doe was getting anxious and jittery.

The single engine plane was deafeningly loud. The loud rumble of the engine was comforting, after a while. She curled up behind the pilot's seat, with her legs pulled up in her sweatshirt. Looking out the window made her feel worse, so she didn't. Even though the stuffy heat made her cheek stick to the leather pilot's seat, she was starting to doze off.

That is until, the pilot himself yanked her to her feet and pulled her to the plane's door by the front of her sweatshirt. Confused, she looked back at the front of the plane.

Oh. He'd kept the plane flying straight by jamming a rifle against the steering thingy.

"GOOD LUCK!" He shouted into her ear, over the engine's noise, and threw open the plane's side door. Then he pushed her out.

Her heart lurched, and palms sweated furiously, as she fell and tumbled closer to the water. She wanted to close her eyes or scream, but adrenaline kept her eyes open and mouth shut. On her way down, she passed through a huge shadow. And then the water hit her with a slap, and it stung.

She sank 6ft and counting, when something huge closed around her and, making her head pound, brought her back to the surface. It was a giant hand. She lay limply, flat on her back, up in the air on the giant hand. The hand shifted and a huge, milky white, orb-eye looked over her. A finger poked her at her stomach.

"Uh, you're not dead, right?"

That question would actually be pretty difficult to answer, if Jane Doe could talk at the moment.

She felt like her brain was half mush, and spinning. She couldn't speak at the moment, so she kicked her foot out at his hand, to at least tell him not to throw her back into the ocean.

The giant man sighed loudly, making her hair flop in the opposite direction.

"This'd better not be Mudz doing." He grumbled quietly, then louder said," Ma name's Russel. Nice ta meet ya." He shook her arm gently between his thumb and pointer finger.

He cradled her in his palm and waited patiently for her to gain some more consciousness so he could talk to her.

Jane Doe lay in the palm of his hand for a few minutes, catching her breath, and letting the sun warm her skin. Her sweatshirt was completely soaked through, and smelled like salt. Finally, she pushed herself up, and sat cross-legged, just like the giant man holding her.

_He seems nice. _She pushed her wet hair out of her face.

Russel was a black man that wore a white T-shirt with green sleeves, and baggy jeans with no shoes.

"Uhh..." She wasn't sure what to do now that she'd gotten to where she wanted to be. "Hi."

"Hey," Russel said, "Where you from?"

"Ionno. Morgue?"

Russel paused and pursed his lips. " Uh-huh. Okay, you have a name, lil' darlin'?"

She shrugged. "Scary guy call meh Jane Doe."

_Ohhh.I think I get it. I get it._ Russel pieced together the two little bits of information she'd gave him. Huh. Pretty disturbing. 2D would love it though. Weird, but it's not like he could be one to judge.

"Well, I can't be callin' you Jane Doe, 'en, can I..." Russel pondered, then smirked evilly. "How 'bout I call you J.D?"

"Alright." She said easily, but then grinned hugely. She had a name, now.

Russel grinned back at her. After all this time, it was good to see someone new...

"Okay, 'en, J.D. you see the pair o' doors over there? In the big tower of pinkness with the birds hangin' 'round it? Good. You go over there and go inside, and 'en take the lift. Ignore the guy outside the lift, kay? And 'en push the button that says B1, ENGINE R.-BROOM CUP.-COMPUTER. R. The button's yellow, I think...

"Anyway, once you get off the lift, you'll see a li' ol' Japanese girl, 'round your age, hangin' 'round. Jus' go talk to her and she'll get you sorted out. Tell her Russ sent ya, kay?"

_Uh..._ "Okay. Thank you, Russel." She felt like he'd sort of brain-smacked her with all these instructions.

He lowered her to the ground. She unfolded her legs and leapt off. Her feet hit the crusty ground and salt water from her sweatshirt oozed and dripped down her legs. She walked to the steel door that Russel'd pointed out to her. There was a big ol' pelican and seagull on the railing by the door, but she just carefully walked by them. They were weird looking. The seagull looked depressed while the pelican just looked stupid.

The metal doors slid apart and then closed quickly behind her, when she stepped inside the circular room. It was mostly dark, thanks to the poor lighting. She stepped toward the lift and it's little green-glowing buttons. Then, she noticed, standing next to the lift, was a little man in a white suit with suave brown hair.

Russel had said to ignore him, but he was standing _right next to_ the lift.

"Er. 'ello." J.D. said politely, and stepped forward.

"THE LIFT! THE LIF-"

He got cut off, when J.D. ran inside the lift and its doors closed.

Her eyes wide, she shuddered and leaned on the lifts graffiti covered wall. It wasn't like she was scared of the island. Even though she hadn't been here long, she liked it and it's quirkiness. And Russel, too. But loud things scared her really bad . It was good here, so far. And, she hoped, she'd get to hear the beautiful music that had woke her from...uh? Where was that from? Didn't matter. She straightened her soggy sweatshirt and with a sunnier attitude, examined the floors the lift could take her to.

Noodle's Perspective (sorta, the story's just movin' to where Noodle is.)

Noodle sat at a white plastic table, fingering her mug of tea, and glaring across the room.

She had her cat mask pulled half way over her face, but it was still a glare. She had her white dress with the red pockets on, and black and white striped leggings that went from her upper thighs to her feet, with the toes cut off.

Her lips pulled back in a scowl.

Across the room, that was cluttered with computers and wires, Cyborg Noodle was fixing one of the machines. Cyborg Noodle physically looked the same as Noodle, except Cyborg's hair was shorter in the back, and her eyes were different. Noodle wasn't sure what action to take towards _it, _yet. Something unnamed about it just did not feel _right. _

Cyborg wasn't all bad. She helped with things, but with that there was a moral price to pay. Murdoc could pay that price no problem, but that was just because he's himself.

Noodle's nails pressed into her mug and chipped it.

Just then, the lift clunkered and made the usual lift noises, and then opened its doors with a little ding. Out stepped a girl, probably in her twenties, with pale skin and dark hair and eyes. From what Noodle could see, she wore only a black sweatshirt that exposed her collar bone, face, and legs. She was drenched, too. She looked around kind of clue-lessly.

Noodle frowned lightly, and got to her feet, leaving her stupid tea behind.

No one was supposed to be on Plastic Beach, 'cept Gorillaz, she didn't think.

J.D's Perspective

Uh...Russel'd told her to go to the little Japanese girl. But there were two of them. And they looked the same. One wore army stuff, and was working on machinery. The other wore a white dress with a cat mask doin' nothin'...Which to choose. which to choose...

The cat mask one got to her feet.

Army one, jerked upright, mechanically. Her boots clunked on the metal-sheeted floor as she strode toward J.D. Army girl's arms shot out and grabbed her by her sweatshirt and yanked her off the ground; dangling her. Her lips parted and a gun barrel extended and pointed at J.D's face. J.D. saw her eyes glow yellow.

"No! Cyborg, stop! Drop her, _now!"_ Cat mask yelled.

Something flickered in Cyborg's eyes and she robotically stated, "Order Recognized." and let go of J.D.

J.D. landed on her feet, but since she was still wet, slipped and landed on her butt. When she looked up, Cat Mask was standing in front of her.

"Uh, hi."

Cat mask held out her hand and pulled J.D. to her feet. _How can she see with that mask on?_

"Hi. I'm Noodle."

**More Noodle next chapter. More humor is on the way, too. The story's just getting into its groove. Reviews are wanted! **

**Thank you for reading.( it means a lot!)**


	3. Chapter 3 Free Hugs and Murdoc

**I got a papercut!**

Chapter 3: Free hugs and Murdoc

J.D.'s Perspective

Russel and Noodle didn't seem startled by me at all. I have no idea why those two guys earlier'd been so surprised. Noodle was treating me carefully, though. Asking little chit-chatty questions. Eventually, Noodle asked;

"How do you feel?"

"Wet."

"Oh." Noodle said, glancing down at my sweatshirt. "I don't have any other clothing. 2D might though."

She took my hand lightly and led me back to the lift. When we got in the lift and turned around, I saw Cyborg watching us. I think Noodle saw her, too. The lift's door closed and Noodle let go of my hand and looked at the lift's controls. I heard her mumble softly, "..upid..Murd...lift..fall." Noodle exhaled through her nose.

"Okay," she said, turning to me. "You'll want to hold onto something."

"Uh..." I said, looking around the lift. It was just a small cylindrical room, with a naked bulb swinging from a chain, above.

Noodle pushed one of the buttons and then, lightning fast, braced herself against the lift. One long leg and one hand on either side. She seemed to be holding her breath, too. For about ten seconds nothing happened, except for the slow decent of the lift. And then, while I was still confused, the lift fell. It just dropped. Like it would have if the cable had snapped.

My knees buckled and I made a choking sound. I kinda grabbed on to Noodle when I fell, and ended up with my arms wrapped around her waist, and the side of my face against her stomach. I don't think she minded at the moment though, what with the falling.

Five seconds later, the lift abruptly stopped and rebounded up an inch or two. Noodle wobbled on her feet a little, and pulled me up.

"You never know when it might drop." Noodle explained to me.

"Yeah." I agreed for some reason, and we walked out the lift with shaky legs.

We walked down a short hallway with a dirty purple carpet and cement walls. Barred lights were on the walls. At the end of the hallway, there was a single oak door with '2D' spray painted in white on it.

Noodle took a wooden key from her pocket. ('Made it myself"- Noodle proud). She unlocked the three deadbolts and door handle, with her key. She swung the door open, and stepped back to let me in. I stepped in and looked around.

There were wires laying around, some whale doodles on the wall, a bed with a porthole above it that had a nice view of underwaterness, and an assortment of more objects.

Noodle walked over to a pile of cardboard boxes, and started looking through them.

"Who 2D?" I asked.

"He used to live in this room, but when I got here I put a stop to that."

"Oh." I didn't get it.

Noodle paused in her rummaging.

"I forgot to ask. What's your name?" Noodle asked me.

"Russel named me J.D." I told her proudly and grinned.

Noodle smiled at me, and her words had laughter in them. "Oh. Well, I think I might just call you Jin, then? So as not to confuse you with 2D?"

"Okay?"

Noodle got up and handed me a wad of clothes, and ushered me into the little bathroom in the corner of the room. I closed the door and thankfully took off my soaked sweatshirt, dropping it on the cracked linoleum floor. I undid the wad Noodle'd gave me, and laid it out on the sink/counter.

There was a pair of dark purple boxers that I put on first. I could tell that the elastic would leave marks...anyway, moving on. Then, I put on a pair of skinny jeans that actually fit my legs really well, except for the extra six inches that folded over my feets. I pulled on the long wifebeater that had the tag ripped off. Over that, I pulled on a slim-fitted white T-shirt, that said 'FREE HUGS' in thick, black letters.

I paused to pull the collar up to my nose. It smelled good. Like smoke, hair gel, and take-out food. The good kind.

I caught my own eye in the mirror/medicine cabinet, and saw what I looked like for the first time.

After a while of making faces at myself, I opened the medicine cabinet and explored it. It was half full of prescription pill bottles. 'bout all of them had pills that were half blue, and half white. The labels were ripped off. I picked up a stray pill that was on the bottom shelf. It said in tiny black print, '10 ml.'

A knock came from the door.

"Jin~?"

"Ah, comin'." I tucked the pill in my pocket.

Noodle's Perspective

Jin doesn't seem like much of a threat at all. She reminds me a little of 2D. Very absent minded, and day dreamy. Russel calling her J.D. that kind of humor's just like him. Maybe he's finally recovering a little from his breakdown.

While Jin was in the bathroom changing, I gathered up a few of 2D's things to bring him, in a bag that I slung over my shoulder.

Jin came out of the bathroom dressed in the clothes I gave her. Huh. They suit her. The sweatshirt before had just kinda hidden her frame. She's about the same height and body type as me. She looks healthier in white, than black.

"Ok." I said swinging 2D's bag up onto my shoulder. "Back to the lift. I'm going to leave you with 2D for a bit. I have something to take care of."

Jin nodded and flicked the bathroom's light off.

We got in the lift with Jin stepping in gingerly. I'd tell her that the lift could only drop if you were going down, but I don't think I want to encourage her to explore, just yet. I pushed the B1 button for the Engine Room. We stood silently, standing side by side to each other, 'till the lift opened and I stepped out, 2D's bag swinging and bumping into my side.

"Push button 3, to the Study. Go up the stairs to the roof, if 2D's not in the Study. He has blue hair and black eyes. Don't wander to anywhere else, kay? Here's his bag." I said, and handed her 2D's bag.

Jin nodded at me kinda blankly and fingered the hem of her shirt. Looking down she said," 'kay, Noodle."

I fought a pang of uneasiness. She should be able to navigate by herself. I felt a little like I was sending a small child on the metro bus into the city alone.

As the lift's doors closed, I gave Jin an encouraging smile and she smiled back at me.

The Master Bedroom

Murdoc Alphonce Niccals sat on his bed, legs stretched out and leaning against the headboard. His skin was green and his mop of black hair covered the top half of his eyes. He wore a captains hat, a grey shirt with sleeves that ended 2 inches before his wrist, white jeans, and his favorite cuban heels. He needed to shave a bit and clean up, but that's what being on a deserted island, for the most part, does to you.

He pulled up his bottle of rum by it's neck, took a swig, and came up empty.

"Gah!" He said in dismay.

He grunted and pushed himself up. He was all out of rum. He shuffled toward the lift, grumbling curses and things like, 'Christ!'

The TV he'd been watching went to commercial and an annoying ad for 'What Would Jesus Do' bracelets came on, flashing psychedelic lights and a zebra. Murdoc laughed as he pushed the button for the lift to come. It was the third time he'd seen it. Still funny, though.

He scratched himself and threw his empty rum bottle into one of his hat boxes in the corner.

The lift's doorway light lit up and the lift arrived, opening it's doors. Murdoc frowned. There was a chick in the lift already. Which was good. She was wearing the Dulard's clothes, which was _not_ good. A complete turn off. He staggered into the lift and the chick pressed into herself. She looked up at him with round eyes and twisted her fingers into the bag's handle that she held.

"Who're yew?" Murdoc asked. The lift closed and started moving again.

"Uhm..." She wasn't sure whether to tell him, 'J.D' or 'Jin.' He smelled funny.

Murdoc looked her up and down.

"Mmm. No name? Never mind 'at 'en, poppet." He put his arms against the wall, on either side of J.D's head. He bent over a little to reach her. His lips grazed her forehead before he groaned and pulled back.

In his current level of booziness, she was too much like that face'che for him to do her. That vacant expression. The clothes. And the Dulard's stench, too. Maybe a nip more of rum and if she got rid o' those clothes...

She waved a hand infront of his face.

"Are ya O.K?" She asked alarmed. "Noodle call meh 'Jin.' Russel call'd meh 'J.D.'" She explained hurriedly, thinking she'd done something wrong. She didn't recognize drunkenness. Or anything else. She didn't get that Murdoc was coming on to her.

He sighed tiredly and leaned against the wall.

" 'm awright, darlin.' Jus' need to get me sum more rum. I'm Murdoc Niccals. Bass playar for Gorillaz" He announced the last part in his usual style.

Her eyes lit up.

She turned her head to face him fully. "I love Gorilla." She said, with a full on smile like the sun.

"Do yew now?" Murdoc grinned at her with his dagger teeth. He put his arm around her waist and pulled her close to his body.

The lift dinged. It'd reached the Study Room.

**Oh my gooooosh. I can't wait to write about 2D and J.D. It's gonna be so much fun. Think about it. 2D loves zombies~ . **

**Note! This isn't a fanfic that revolves around a relationship between the OC and whoever else. It's for fun little hangin' out and laughing sort of thing with some added romancyness. Though, I do like to mess around with 'hints' and romance... Makes it funner. There might be a relationship in the future, but I have no idea who it'd be with. **

**Do you guys like third person or first person better?**

**Extra: I was gonna name the chapter 'Free Hugs from 2D' (cause the t-shirt's his) but that's be cruel.**


	4. Chapter 4 2D an' a heart

**I'm a really slow typer.**

Chapter 4:2D an' a heart

J.D.'s perspective

The funny man called Murdoc had his arm wrapped me, when the lift got to the Study Room. He squeezed me against him, but then let go 'bruptly, mumbling, " 'amn, Dulard's stank."

He stumbled out of the lift before me. I got out slower than him and looked around. Huh? I looked around some more. Murdoc was gone. Hmm, I don't seem to stick by one person very long. Makes me sad.

The Study Room has a desk with an octopus on it. It has bookshelves, and it has a little theater section. That's the stuff that sticks out the most to me. There's a lot of randomish stuff all over Plastic Beach, I think. There's a door to the left marked 'Studio,' and a railless spiral staircase that led upwards through a circular hole in the ceiling.

"Hey." A cockney accented voice called down from the stairs. He was leaning over, looking down through the ceiling's hole. He was pretty. He had blue hair that stuck up a bit, from under his sailor hat. His eyeballs were completely black. Blue hair. Blue's nice.

"Yu souldn' go 'round wif Mudz. 'e's not good. Took ma liver las' Album, y'kno."

"Oh." I put my hand on my stomach. "Want won of mine?"

"Nah." He blinked dully.

I moved toward the stairs, avoiding the stuff on the floor. I didn't know what half of it was. I climbed up the spiral stairs, 'till I had to stop for a moment. One of the steps was missing. I eyed the distance to the next step. Eh. I think I might make it. I pulled the ends of my jeans up a little, so that they wouldn't fold over my feet momentarily. I curl my toes against the stone step I stand on and leap.

Ah! Yay! Made it. I wobble and tip over. Oops. Didn't make it...

A pair of long arms catch me under the arms and carries me up the rest of the steps like a child. The bag I'm supposed to give to 2D, swings from my fingers.

we get the top of the stairs and I have to squeeze my eyes closed. We're on the roof and the sun is blinding. 2D sat me down and laughed.

"Whot?" I asked, not being able to open my eyes yet.

"Yur face." He laughed.

"_Your _face!" I shoot back wittily. We were gonna get along.

My eyes adjusted and I could see. The roof was white like the rest of the house. There were lawn chairs and striped umbrellas scattered about like it was a resort. That must've been Murdoc's idea. He seems the type for that kinda stuff. Over to the side, is a futon, machine resembling a stereo, a few cardboard boxes, and a blue duffle bag.

2D was wearing some brown leather boots, jeans with the cuffs rolled up, and a white wifebeater. I hadn't noticed before, but he had really long legs, and long skinny arms with lean muscle definition.

Guess, that's why the jeans Noodle gave me, are so long. Oh. I'm still holding the bag, Noodle gave me for 2D.

"Dis is from Noodle." I say, breaking 2D out from the daydream he'd went into.

"Ah, Fanks." He took the bag's handles with his long fingers and stode over to where the futon and other stuff is. I follow behind him, dawdling a little, looking out at the ocean. It's so _big. _And blue. Blue is a good color. I think it's my favorite.

2D let himself collapse on the futon, it bends from his weight. He hums a tune and starts looking through the bag from Noodle. I make my way over to him and he pats next to him. I plop down and the futon bends even more, pushing us together so our thighs and arms touch.

2D starts going through the bag. He pulls out a couple of pill bottles just like the ones in the medicine cabinet downstairs.

"What're those?" I ask.

"Thees're pills fo' thees real bad 'eadaches i 'et sometimes." He tosses them into a side pocket on the duffle bag, out of sight.

Next, he pulls out a piano/flute, which is called a melodica... wait. How do I know what it's called? Uh, doesn't matter, I guess. Melodicas are fun. He sets it on my lap and I fiddle with the keys, while 2D pulls out the rest of his stuff.

Some beat up sneakers. A couple of spiral notebooks (all purple) with pens pushed into the metal spiral binding. And a little wooden box with a latch. He starts putting all of this stuff off to the side, in the cardboard boxes.

The melodica stays on my lap and the notebooks stay on the futon.

While he's putting his stuff away, he asks me, "an' where'rd yew come from?"

"I come from morgue."

"Un-huh..." He said uncertainly looking up from his boxes.

" 's true!" I say, tired of the weird looks everyone I meet gives me. He keeps lookin' at me a lil' funny so I decide to show him something that even _I_ know, normal people shouldn't have. (Well, I'm pretty sure most don't.)

I move the melodica offa my lap and stand up. I rock back on my heels and lift my shirt up, showing him my stomach.

A few inches above my belly button is a deep macabre scar, where my skin'd been stitched together in a poorly done criss cross pattern. It went all the way up to two inches below my collar bone. There were other little scattered scars, that didn't stand out as much. My least favorite, for some reason, were these two puffed out ovalish scars that were parallel to each other. I don't mind the others, but these two I hate. They suck.

"Wot happened?" 2D asked concerned. He'd finished putting the stuff away and walked over to me. He reached out and lightly traced the big scar up, with his fingertips, till it reached the shirt. He has warm hands. I feel strange.

"Ionno." I say. "Don' remember anything besides the morgue."

Something in his black orb-eyes lights up, but at the same time he looks, what's the word, weary. He lets his hand drop and I let go of my shirt, letting it fall back into place.

"Y-Yew breath..."He observed.

"..." I didn't say anything.

"Um, yur heart." I give him a puzzled look. Now he's just sayin' stuff.

"Can I listen tuh it?"

"Sure." I nod.

'cause of the height difference he sits back on the futon, and I stand between his knees. His hands go on my arms and he puts his ear over my heart.

After awhile, he pulls away.

"Yew have a heart."

I smile. "I like your hair."

He reaches up and reflexively touches it.

"Fanks." He smiles. He's missing his two front teeth

. "Here lemme show you somefin."He says suddenly, his smile turning into a mischievous grin.

**^^ yay! chapter 4! It was longer, but i had to cut it in half 'cause it was too long. Expect more 2D!**

**I jus' reread chapter 1 and I think I might go back and rewrite it. That beginning chapter was pretty...guy-ish? I didn't really intend that. If i do, I'll make a note saying I rewrote it. **

**My fanfics always start out really rough then get better :P**

**Thank you for reading! ^_^**


	5. Chapter 5 'Ombies

Chapter 5 'Ombies and a bit o' other stuff

2D grins toothily and pulls me over to the stairs. He tosses me over his shoulder and jumps down the steps two at a time. I clutch his shirt shakily. He's very tall. He reaches the bottom, but doesn't put me down. My hair is in my eyes and I can't see. He moves over and drops me onto a couch.

I push myself up and sort my hair out of my eyes (maybe I should just cut my hair off or something. It seems to get in the way a lot). I'm on the black leather couch in the theater section of the Study Room.

2D hums and pulls down one of those rolled up movie screens that you use with a projector. He reaches with his long arm over to the wall, and pushes a button with a 'down arrow.' Shades come down and cover the windows so that the room is dark. He grabs a remote and sits down next to me. He stretches out and puts his feet up on the table. Seeing him relax, I curl up and tuck my legs underneath me. I should be comfortable, but I feel awkward for some reason.

"I wont ta sho' yew dis movie yew made me think of."

He clicks the remote and the screen starts changing. It turns red and in blocky white letters it says, 'Z-flix,' A loading bar fills at the bottom of the screen.

"I thought it'd beh ...app'op'iate...tuh sho' yew a zombie flick."

My face is blank. "A wha?"

He leans his face on his hand as he looks at me slyly. "Zombie. A livin' dead~"

"Oh." What? I still don't get it...

"Loik yew." 2D says.

"I'm a -ombie?"

His mouth twitches and he turns to face me fully. "Wot did yew say?" He asks laughing a little.

I frown sternly. "You kno' what I said! I said what you said!"

He laughs, "No 'Z's' fo' yew, eh luv?"

I make a face at him sticking out my tongue. He's nice enough so he lets it go. The movie seems to be starting.

"Dis is my favorite zombie flick, _'Dawn of the Dead_.'" 2D whispers as he relaxes and turns back to the screen.

Approximately 2 hours later

I am very disturbed now. Throughout the movie I stared with huge eyes at the screen. 2D seemed to be enjoying it, but...ugh. It didn't make me feel so good. Feeling so much is exhausting. I miss not feeling anything at all. Everything is so strange too! I know what most stuff is, but other things I don't remember at all. I'm not really bothered by that. I don't see why I should be bothered. Not like it matters that much.

...Seriously (I learned that word from the movie) I should just cut my hair off. I keep having to brush it back and that makes me feel irritated. Again with the feeling...Well, while I'm at it; I feel like I'm feeling more and _more_, the longer I'm...awake.

2D seems nice, but pretty emotionally unstable...poor man. Doesn't know what's what, but I suppose I can't be one to talk.

I think I'm tired.

**Mostly dialogue I know, I know. Reviews=quicker and longer updates ;)**


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